


for all the things we're too scared to say

by sergeantwinter



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Practice Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2017-06-29
Packaged: 2018-11-21 05:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11350989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeantwinter/pseuds/sergeantwinter
Summary: “We're best friends, right, Steve?”Suspicion was evident on Steve's face immediately. “Yes.”“What would you say if I wanted to kiss you?” Bucky’s speech was drawn out, languid, the exact opposite of Steve’s heart rate once the words sank in. Steve's face must have changed, shown fear or confusion, maybe a mixture of both, because Bucky tacked on the end, “For practice.”Bucky wants to practice kissing with Steve, and Steve is more than willing.





	for all the things we're too scared to say

Steve was not conventionally attractive. He was small, and scrawny, his bones stuck out in odd places, and he had a lump on the bridge of his nose where it had been broken one too many times. Steve was used to romantic disinterest from men and women alike. After this long it didn't bother him, was merely another routine part of his life – he worked down at the market (when he was well enough), filled up a few pages of his sketchbook, and went out to watch Bucky dance with pretty girls whilst he sat alone at their table. It would be unfair to say that his life was boring as a result – Steve still had relationships, just not any of a romantic nature. He knew nothing different.

He told himself that he didn't need a romantic relationship to feel fulfilled, that he was perfectly fine with the way he looked because that was what made him _him_ , but when Bucky asked to practice kissing with him, Steve jumped at the chance.

“We're best friends, right, Steve?”

Suspicion was evident on Steve's face immediately. “Yes.”

“What would you say if I wanted to kiss you?” Bucky’s speech was drawn out, languid, the exact opposite of Steve’s heart rate once the words sank in. Steve's face must have changed, shown fear or confusion, maybe a mixture of both, because Bucky tacked on the end, “For practice.”

“Why would you want to practice on me?” Bucky had kissed more than his fair share of women; he couldn’t be that bad at it or they wouldn’t keep coming back. Still, Steve couldn’t keep a hint of hope from creeping into his voice as he answered.

“Cause you've got those full lips, perfect for kissing.” Bucky winked; he'd moved to the edge of his bed now, fingers tapping against his knees in anticipation. “If you can't kiss your friends, Stevie, who can you kiss?” Steve made a sound of disbelief, a few strands of his hair flying away from his face with the force of it, and Bucky whined in response.

That whine conveyed more than words ever could. Steve sighed, his demeanour charging from apprehensive to playful. He crossed his arms, let his eyes roam the room, feigning contemplation. "I guess this would give me some practice as well."

Bucky took that as agreement, moving over to sit on Steve's bed. "You can show all those dames down at the dance hall what they've been missing."

Steve nodded, tilted his head up towards Bucky’s. His confidence was gone just as soon as it had arrived. Bucky’s eyes were almost sparkling, a deep brown like chocolate that the pair could so rarely afford. Where Bucky had been excited before, he too seemed nervous as he leaned in. He was a mere inch away from sealing the deal when he murmured “We can stop anytime you want.”

“It's just kissin’, Buck.”

A pause, the length of a heartbeat.

 "I'm going to kiss you now."

Steve shuddered as he felt the words ghost across his lips. "Okay."

Bucky’s lips were soft as they pressed against Steve’s. The kiss was ginger, Bucky testing the waters of this new part of their friendship. Steve didn’t want to push for more either, his inexperience and nerves holding him back. The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but time becomes indefinite in moments like these, pulled taught like a rubber band. Those few seconds felt like an eternity to Steve – he wanted to open his eyes, to see if he could read a similar emotion on Bucky’s face.

Bucky pulled away; his cheeks were tinged pink. “How was that?”

Boldly, Steve replied, “I think you can do better.” He could feel his own cheeks heating up.

Bucky cocked one eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face – this was a challenge, a chance to showcase his best moves. Steve ached to draw him like this. To draw the two of them like this. Steve sucked in a breath, bit his lower lip as Bucky dipped his head again. This time the kiss a little rougher, more demanding – Bucky grabbed Steve's chin between his thumb and forefinger, encouraging Steve's lips to part. Steve couldn’t hold back his own sounds as Bucky traced Steve's bottom lip with his tongue; Bucky pulled Steve into his lap and Steve went easily, raking his hand through Bucky’s hair as the kiss grew more intense. Bucky smelled like bar soap, and his hands were firm against Steve's back.

Much to Steve's disappointment, Bucky eventually broke the kiss, a lazy grin splitting his face. “Any better?”

“Always room for improvement.” Steve was a little breathless, his entire body warm, but that didn’t stop him from pushing Bucky to lay down on the bed before diving in for more.

It was still true that Steve didn't need this type of affection, but _god_ did it feel good.

After a while it became just another part of their routine: he and Bucky went to work, Steve would fill up a couple pages of his sketchbook, and they would practice for a while before heading out to the dance hall. Steve felt more confident in himself, and women seemed more interested in him as well. His first kiss with girl was nice – her lips were soft, full, and she smelled like shampoo. “You're a good kisser,” she remarked as Steve walked her home. Steve had to bite back a smirk as he thought to himself, _I've had a lot of practice._

 

Their kisses were the one constant for them during the war.

At first Bucky kept the pretence alive, more for himself than for Steve. He would say some variant of “Have to keep myself in shape for the gals back home,” as he straddled Steve (Steve was bigger now, in a better position to take charge, something he did increasingly as Bucky seemed to fade before his eyes). As the days trudged on, the reassurances became less frequent, the kisses more frantic. They slept in the same bed, Bucky’s head buried in Steve's neck, hands clasped tight between them. They always slept face to face.

There was something more between them, something that they never said with words but was clear as day in their kisses, in the way they held each other at night, in the way that they were almost always touching. They sat shoulder to shoulder outside of their tents, were no more than a feet away from each other at all times on missions, as though they believed that once the other was out of sight they would disappear entirely. These feelings had always been there, but they had been young and wilfully ignorant. War doesn’t allow for ignorance, but there isn’t much room for realisation either.

It made the fall that much more devastating.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Dugan had said, grasping Steve’s shoulder in an iron grip. “We know how much Barnes meant to you.” To any one listening this sounded like an ordinary expression of condolences, but Dugan’s voice was heavy with knowing.

Difficult were the nights that Steve spent alone after that, the inside of his tent seemingly endless now that it had one less inhabitant. The days seemed longer, the nights colder, harsher without a warm body pressed against him. Plunging into the freezing water, Steve thought to himself that death could be no worse than living. Preferable, even.

 

Steve could not have been more wrong.

When Steve took Bucky home to the apartment he’d bought in Brooklyn, the look on Bucky’s face was peaceful. Steve felt hope bubbling up inside him, his heart swelling to a thousand times its size. When the door was closed, the rest of the world shut out, Steve pulled Bucky into a hug, fisted a hand into his hair. It was so good to touch him again, a reassurance that he was real, and safe, that they both were. When he pulled back, Steve couldn’t bring himself to let go, so moved his hand cup around the nape of Bucky’s neck. He stared into Bucky’s eyes, still that same chocolate brown; he was so overcome with emotion that without even thinking he leaned in to press their lips together, harsh and full of words that he didn’t have the strength yet to say.

Bucky was the one who broke contact this time, but lifted his hands to rest on Steve's waist. “I guess all that practice paid off.”

Steve smiled sheepishly, throwing his arms around Bucky’s neck. “I guess so.” he replied, leaning in to kiss him once more.


End file.
